


Rainy Day

by sabinelagrande



Series: Nice Place to Visit [2]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Bondage, Dom Rodney McKay, Dom/sub, Established Relationship, Genital Torture, M/M, Sequel, Stand-alone, Sub John Sheppard, Waxplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-13
Updated: 2010-06-13
Packaged: 2017-10-10 02:30:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/94453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sabinelagrande/pseuds/sabinelagrande
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rodney has a plan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rainy Day

After he's done in the shower, John knocks on the door adjoining their two rooms. It's another arbitrary Saturday; he's looking forward to a nice long, lazy day with Rodney, not least of all because he knows there's something serious up Rodney's sleeve.

"There you are," Rodney says, when he waves the door open; he's wearing a pair of threadbare sweats and nothing else. "I was starting to think you'd fallen in."

"You're the one who kicked me out," John points out. His collar is sitting out on the dresser; John picks it up and puts it on, patting it down against his neck.

Rodney walks over and pecks him on the cheek. "Did you do what I asked?"

John squirms a little at the question; it feels bizarre to have everything between his knees and his neck shaved off, but he's done it anyway, because it's what Rodney wants. "Yeah. I'm ready."

"Then strip down and let's get started."

He undresses quickly, folding his clothes and stacking them on Rodney's desk. Their bed is all fixed up; John knows he's in for something, because there's an old, worn out sheet on top of it, instead of Rodney's specially purchased Egyptian cotton. He only gets more curious when the bed makes a crinkling sound when he climbs on top of it. The handcuffs are waiting for him; he obediently stretches his hands above his head, and Rodney puts the cuffs around his wrists, locking them.

"Bend your knees," Rodney says, and John's a little confused, but he does, planting his feet on the bed.

It makes more sense when something soft closes around his ankle. "Where did you get new cuffs?"

"You really don't want to know," Rodney tells him. "Certain people on this mission were far too optimistic with their personal items." He stands back and looks at John. "Perfect."

John tries to look nonchalant. "What are we doing today?"

"I'm trying something different," Rodney informs him. "I'm going to make you come."

"Uh, Rodney," John says delicately. "I think we've covered that ground pretty well."

Rodney grins, looking just a little evil. "Today I'm trying it on hard mode."

"What do you mean?"

"You're going to lay there," Rodney informs him. "And I'm going to torture you." John swallows, already starting to get turned on. "And then you're going to come, without me touching your cock at all."

"Jesus Christ, Rodney."

"I knew you'd like it."

"I don't see how I couldn't," John tells him. "What's first on the agenda?"

Rodney smiles. "That's for me to know and you to find out, isn't it?" He goes into the bathroom and comes back with a black bag, no doubt full of tricks; the first thing he produces is a bottle of baby oil. He climbs onto the bed, in between John's spread thighs. He opens the bottle, pouring some of it into his hands, rubbing them together to warm it up.

"Step one," he says, putting his hands on John's legs, smoothing the oil onto his skin. He's thorough, his big hands coating John's thighs, his balls, the part of his ass that's accessible, massaging him gently. He gets off the bed and moves around John, so that he can cover his chest and stomach without even the slightest chance of touching his cock.

"This doesn't seem very torturous," John points out, feeling relaxed and spoiled.

Rodney doesn't say anything, just grins to himself; that's when John figures out that he's really in for it.

"Step two," Rodney says, pulling something wooden and slightly shiny out of his bag- it's a plug, a pretty big one at that. "Do you like it?" he asks, climbing back onto the bed. "I had to trade, like, ten pairs of socks and a bottle of aspirin for it."

John gulps. "I think they got screwed on that deal."

"That's what I thought," he says, setting it down and picking up the lube. He slicks John up quickly, barely stretching him at all, but he makes a big show of pouring the lube onto the plug, rubbing it all over its surface. "I want you to feel it," Rodney tells him, positioning the plug at his entrance, pressing just the tip inside of him. "Just breathe and let it open you up."

John's feeling a whole lot less relaxed than he was a minute ago, but he does what Rodney says. The slow slide of the plug into his body is intense, inexorable; he looks up at Rodney's face, but Rodney isn't looking at him, his eyes trained on where he's penetrating John. John shuts his eyes; there's a flare of pain as the largest part of the plug enters him, but it's gone in an instant, leaving him feeling totally full.

"Look at that," Rodney says softly, running his fingers around the base. He drums his fingers against it, and John jumps, the motion going all the way through him. Rodney sighs contentedly and sits back, enjoying his handiwork. "That's a good start," he says, twisting the plug a little, just to hear John moan.

Rodney reaches for his bag again, rummaging around in it. "Now, as far as step three is concerned, I found something really interesting in one of the emergency kits." He comes up with a cardboard box that rattles when he shakes it; he reaches in and pulls out a fat white candle.

"Candles?" John asks, confused. "What are you-" His eyes go wide as he gets it. "Oh, shit."

"Pure paraffin," Rodney says, pulling a lighter out of his bag before putting it on the floor. He sparks the lighter, slowly lighting the candle, making sure John is watching the whole time. "You'll like this, John."

"I'm not so sure about that," John says nervously, but his nerves don't seem to be having any effect on his hard-on.

"I am," Rodney says, carefully checking the pool of wax that the candle is gathering. "Trust me," he says, just before he drips the wax down the inside of John's thigh. John gasps and bucks, but it's nowhere near as bad as he was expecting. Rodney does it again to his other leg; this time John's ready for it. It actually feels sort of-

"Good?" Rodney asks.

"I think so?" John says uncertainly.

"You think so?" he echoes, dripping more wax onto John's skin, further up his thigh.

"I'm definitely leaning towards it," John allows, panting.

Rodney snorts at him, checking the candle again. Rodney slowly coats John's thighs, a little at a time; there's a rhythm to it- pouring the wax, waiting for it to pool, pouring it again. And the more he does it, the more John seems to like it, the jolt of pain with every new bit of skin Rodney covers, the warmth of the wax seeping into his skin.

"Now for the fun part," Rodney says, carefully protecting the flame with his hand as he gets off the bed, moving around to John's side. He drips a line of wax down the center of John's chest; it's clear that Rodney's trying to lull him into a false sense of security, but John still jumps about a foot when the wax touches his nipple for the first time. He doesn't even have time to swear before Rodney does it again, catching his other nipple this time.

"What did I tell you?" Rodney says smugly, dripping the wax all around his chest, random little spatters that John can't predict. John can't answer, either, just moans incoherently. He's torn between trying to get away and trying to get more, everywhere; it hurts really good, in that way that John is still a little perplexed by.

His stomach is next; John doesn't dare move, because Rodney's precariously close to dropping the wax onto his dick, and John really isn't ready to find out if that's awesome or just terrifying. Rodney knows exactly what he's doing, outlining his cock without ever touching it.

"I'm sorry I ever doubted you," John pants. "This is pretty torturous."

Rodney just grins, which is a really bad sign. He moves back in between John's legs again. "Now for the _really_ fun part," he says.

It clicks. "Oh god, no," John says. "What you're thinking of doing, don't do it."

"Oh, I'm doing it," Rodney replies, raising the candle. "You want me to stop, you know what to say. Your choice."

John's seriously conflicted for a moment, his eyes flickering from the candle to Rodney's face. Rodney's just waiting for him; he's not going to do anything that John doesn't want. John's plenty terrified, but his trust in Rodney wins out in the end. "Green," he says firmly, taking a deep breath.

As soon as the word leaves his mouth, Rodney tilts the candle; John hisses as the hot wax spills onto his balls. It hurts like a _motherfucker_, but John hears himself begging for more. Rodney doesn't disappoint, hitting him again with the wax; John arches off of the bed, pulling at his cuffs.

"I think you like it," Rodney tells him, dripping more wax, a long line of it all the way across his balls. He waits for more wax to pool, looking fondly at John. "Pain slut," he says, splashing him with wax again.

John just groans in response. He's probably proving Rodney right, but he _so_ doesn't care, not when Rodney's getting him to such a good headspace. All he wants is more, and if that makes him a slut, well, he's kind of past the point of caring.

He's whimpering by the time Rodney finally finishes with him. His whole lower body feels warm, the heat soaking into him; he's turned on like crazy, but he's reached that point where it feels sort of secondary to anticipating Rodney's next move.

"I wish we had a mirror," Rodney says. "You look amazing, John."

"Feel amazing," John slurs.

"Then it's time for step four," he announces, reaching over the side of the bed for his bag and pulling out a knife.

John looks at him skeptically. "That's kinda dull."

Rodney rolls his eyes. "I'm not trying to cut you." He leans carefully over John's body, stubbornly avoiding his cock. He carefully scrapes the knife across John's chest; the wax has cooled down enough that it peels away easily. There's something suspicious about the way that he's only cleaning the wax from John's nipples, but John's running a little too slow to figure it out. He doesn't get it until Rodney reaches up and flicks one of them; he's so much more sensitive now than he's ever been.

"You're evil," John tells him.

"Not yet," Rodney replies, reaching into the bag. John really doesn't recognize what he pulls out; it's an unintelligible tangle of metal until Rodney shakes it out.

"Jesus Christ," John says.

"I guarantee you he has nothing to do with this," Rodney says, opening the clamps and setting them, one at a time, on John's nipples. "I made them myself," Rodney says calmly, while John's still thrashing against the bed. It hurts so much more than the wax did; John has just now figured out that it was all an elaborate set-up.

Rodney's totally evil.

"Stop squirming," Rodney says, slapping him on the outside of his thigh, and John does his level best, panting hard. Rodney has the knife in his hand again, but now he's going for John's balls, so John stops moving in a hurry.

It doesn't hurt when Rodney peels the wax away from his skin; it just feels really, really strange, almost like peeling a sunburn. He gets why Rodney made him shave- what it would have felt like with hair in the way is just too painful to contemplate.

"Not," John gasps, "more clamps?"

"I thought about it," Rodney says, stroking a hand over his sensitive, exposed skin. "But then I figured this-" he slaps John's balls, making him jump, making the clamps bounce and tug at him and the plug shift- "was way more fun."

He keeps it up, alternating between tugging at the clamps and slapping him, and John can't get enough of it. He's completely at Rodney's mercy, caught between too many sensations; it's the most intense thing he's ever experienced. He feels like the lightest touch would set him off, but Rodney, goddamn him, still hasn't laid a finger on his cock.

Rodney gives the clamps a particularly vicious pull. "You can come when I take the clamps off."

John shakes his head. "I don't- I can't-"

"Yes, you can," Rodney says firmly. "You can do it for me."

Shakily, John nods.

"Here it comes," Rodney tells him, reaching up and putting his hands on the clamps.

John sucks in a breath, waiting for it, but being ready doesn't prepare him for the spike of pain when they come off. It feels horrible and amazing and it's too much, way too much. He's so close, he's almost there, he's just a hair's breadth from toppling over the edge. "Rodney," he pleads. "Oh god, Rodney, please."

Rodney reaches down and twists the plug inside of him, and John comes, helplessly, hips jerking, so hard that he shakes with it.

He can feel Rodney working the plug out of him, replacing it with his cock, fucking into him with short, frantic strokes. He couldn't get hard again if he wanted, but it still feels so good, just laying there and letting Rodney use his body for his own pleasure. It makes him feel grounded, connected to Rodney; he loves Rodney so damn much that it feels like a privilege.

Rodney doesn't last any time at all, shoving deep inside of him and coming with a groan. John makes a noise of protest when Rodney pulls away, undoing the ankle cuffs and letting them fall over the side of the bed.

"I need to clean you up," he says, reaching for the key to the handcuffs.

"It'll wait," John responds, twisting his hands away. "Please?"

Rodney kisses him on the temple. "Sure. I'm just gonna unhook you from the wall, okay?"

Once John's situated, Rodney lays down next to him, cuddling up close and putting his arms around John. "I totally won," he says, a little breathlessly.

John yawns. "What was the prize?"

He snorts, amused. "My own pet masochist, it looks like."

"S'okay," John says, smiling. "Got my own pet evil genius."


End file.
